


Words on a Stubborn Heart

by HypotheticalWoman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Band Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Stalking, The Blade of Marmora - Freeform, no beta we doe like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypotheticalWoman/pseuds/HypotheticalWoman
Summary: AND IT'S BACK! LIKE I PROMISED!In a world where everyone has a soulmate, Keith is adamant he's not a soulmate, he's a free man. Lance is straight and already has a girlfriend - so when it turns out they're destined for each other, neither of them like the idea at all. Unfortunately? Destiny* hates when you disobey her and life gets worse and worse for them the more they try and avoid the inevitable. It doesn't stop them trying.As for Shiro, he has resisted sealing the bond with his soulmate, but that guy's a dick who won't stop trying to own him. What's a sweet guy to do?* Destiny is the author, here, obviously.





	1. Reaction

_'The Soulmate Phenomenon, as it is called, is not widely understood by medical science, despite having been a near-universal constant for all of documented history. The idea that every human has a predestined partner is, in scientific terms, as unexplainable as to be faintly ridiculous, let alone the idea that the first words exchanged will appear on the body where skin touches for the first time._

_If it could all be assigned to destiny or (as some would have it) gods, then the path of true love would surely run smooth for everyone. Unfortunately this is too frequently not the case.'_

_\- Harsh Words: Rejecting the Soulmate Phenomenon, By Prof. Svyatoslav Mushket._

 

As with most people, Lance believed in the Soulmate Phenomenon for a long time. He couldn't _see_ his words, of course, not without a mirror - they were on his back, on his left shoulderblade, which was... unusual, so he'd got his best friend Hunk to photograph them for him.

 _'Look, I'm sorry, OK?!'_ in a very black, spiky hand, scribbled as if the writer was in a big hurry to be elsewhere - it didn't bode terribly well.

He'd analysed it and his friends had analysed it, mostly out of friendship (they themselves had recognised one another as soulmates at the ages of nine and eleven and been inseparable ever since) but when Lance was sixteen or so he'd decided all this waiting was a waste of his obvious charms and had started chatting up the local ladies, and sometimes even succeeding, to Hunk and Pidge's mild surprise.

The day everyone was eventually to just refer to as Splash Day, Lance had been dating Nyma for two months, despite her having clear lettering on her palm in a square, even hand that was nothing like Lance's flowing script that said, _'With your looks? Anything you want.'_ Lance had in fact said it to her, but certainly not as the first thing. But she seemed content to be with him, and so he was happy that he had dodged the soulmate thing.

Unfortunately Destiny is one thing, Nemesis is quite another, and Lance was at the pool, about to dive in when someone barged him suddenly from behind - he only just managed to save himself from falling in. He turned and saw it was a young man with a ridiculous haircut who was stalking away from him, apparently oblivious to having even touched him.

'Hey!' yelled Lance. 'Look where the fuck you're going, Mullet!'

The stupid haircut turned his head and threw over his shoulder, 'Look, I'm sorry, OK?!'

Then he froze. Lance also froze, horrified, but slightly gratified that the intruder into his personal space looked, if anything, even more appalled than he did. Mullet turned around, opened his mouth, appeared to think better of it and just said, ' _What?_ '

'I _said_ , look where you're-'

'Stop!' Lance's gaze dropped to Mullet's upper arm, where his words were written in his unmistakeable flowing, slanted handwriting and now, more words were joining them as fast as he spoke them, so it was probably a good thing Mullet had cut him off.

Normally Lance would have argued in the face of such abruptness but given that he knew Mullet's words were collecting down his back he was probably being done a service. Suddenly, before Lance could do anything about it, Mullet's hand had shot out and grabbed his wrist.

'Hey! Let me go!' said Lance, trying hard to pull away.

'You want my words on you?'

Lance went still. 'No. Fine.' But the scowl remained on his face.

'I'm no happier about this than you but clearly it's a thing and we need to talk and work out where we stand.'

'I... guess you're right about that. Can we not do this right here, though? Anyone might see and tell my girlfriend and-'

Mullet sighed. 'Oh, you have a girlfriend, marvellous. She'll be _ecstatic_. But yeah, sure - there's that coffee shop just over there, you don't even have to touch me, just give me your number and we can use our phones.'

'If you think I'm gonna give you my number you have another thing coming.'

Lance had been subjected to a wide variety of You're-An-Idiot looks in his time. He had to admit that the one Mullet was giving him now was a stellar example of the breed. 'Fine. We'll get a _notepad_ and do it all in _writing_.'

'Yeah. Fine. I'll meet you there in ten.'

'Twenty, I still have something I need to do.'

'Sure, I can get a shower in that time.'

'Great. I'm Keith.'

'Not Mullet, then.'

Mul- _Keith_ released Lance's wrist and said clearly, 'You're an asshole, and you're not funny. See you in twenty.' Then turned and walked away.

* * *

 

In the shower room, Lance was dismayed, but not surprised, to see the words _'-ole, and you're not funny. See y-'_ appear over the crest of his shoulder, go down his chest and vanish under his armpit. He didn't need to turn to see where the rest of the sentence was. Instead he showered, dressed and ambled over to the poolside cafe.

Keith was already waiting for him at a corner table by the time Lance had got his strawberry frappe - trust Mullet to hide in a corner when there were outside tables to be had and the sun was shining, he was probably drinking espresso too. Oh, no, it turned out he had some kind of purple smoothie, but as soon as Lance sat down he shoved a thick notepad across the table.

_Took you long enough. What the hell is your name anyway?_

Lance bristled and grabbed the pen. Keith had thoughtfully acquired one each. _Lance. I am easily on time! WTF R U drinking_ It turned out it was nowhere near as easy to be scathing in written conversation as it was in speech.

Keith rolled his eyes and sighed. _summer berry smoothie and you're a fine one to talk_

_strawb frap is a fine drink fite me_

_we didn't come here for this. we're here to sort out the soulmate thing_

Lance glared at him. _yeah but im straight i have a gf and also ur clearly a prick_

Keith... narrowed his eyes at Lance, but strangely didn't rise to the bait. Instead he just wrote, _does your girlfriend have any soulwords?_

And Lance hesitated. He wrote, _yes but_ but there didn't seem to be much to say from there. After three crossings out, Keith's apparently very limited patience gave up, and he grabbed Lance's pen hand.

'OK, enough with this nonsense. You don't have to answer that question, I got my answer.'

'Let go of me,' said Lance uneasily, trying to twist out of Keith's grip. It wasn't working.

'Shut up and listen for once. Good thing for you? I don't believe in any of this destiny crap. I'm my own man and I have free will. So now we've established that I don't want you and you don't want me, we need to work out how we're gonna handle that.'

Lance didn't relax, but he stopped trying to fight. The words were a relief but also somehow extremely hurtful, for reasons he couldn't justify. Surely it was _good_ that his soulmate didn't want him, if his soulmate was an asshole like this?

He bristled defensively anyway. 'Hey, you think you know everything about me? You don't know _anything_ about me and you sure as hell don't know what I want.'

'You said you were straight and had a girlfriend. Are you saying you _do_ actually want me as your soulmate?'

'Shit. No. That's not what I meant.' Lance tried again to pull his wrist out of Keith's hand but his grip just tightened. 'Fuck, just let me go, you psycho - I promise I'll never talk to you again, is that what you want?'

Keith shrugged and took a sip of his smoothie. 'Sort of, but I still don't want your words on me so excuse me if I don't let you go just yet. Right, so here's the deal. You see me in town, don't speak to me. If I see you, I don't speak to you. If we have to talk for any reason I guess we're gonna have to do it like this but it means _nothing_. No soul, no bond, no homo.'

'Dude, after this I never even _met_ you. We don't know each other, I don't even know why I told you my name.'

Keith glared at him. 'Well. I must say this would've been harder with someone who was into the idea. At least we're on the same page here.'

'I am not on the same _anything_ with you.'

Keith nodded curtly. 'Yes, good. Hopefully we can both get out of this with as few marks as possible. And for what it's worth I hope your girlfriend takes it well.'

Lance winced, and briefly contemplated _not_ telling Nyma he'd found his soulmate, but then realised she'd see the increase in the amount of words on his back. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Me too.' There was a pause. 'Are you gonna let go of my hand now?'

'Fuck, no,' replied Keith, taking a leisurely sip of his smoothie. 'You're probably gonna cover me in cunts and fucks if I do, I can see you have a mental age of thirteen.'

'Hey!' Lance tried to stand up but Keith dragged him back down into his seat - damn, he was stronger than he looked. 'I am- I mean, I am _supposed_ to be your _soulmate_ , don't you trust me?'

Keith's face went icy cold, and he leaned forward. Lance leaned back. 'First of all. Don't _ever_ say we're soulmates again. Second, no, I don't trust you as far as I could throw you, even though that's probably further than you'd think. We met half an hour ago, why the fuck would I _trust_ you?'

Lance swallowed. 'OK, you are _terrifying_. You might be even worse than Pidge and that's an achievement.'

'Finish your stupid pink frappe and leave, and then we never have to talk to each other again.'

Lance bolted the drink fast enough that he got brain freeze - which turned out well for both of them because by the time Lance recovered, Keith had used the time he was distracted to leave.

Lance waited ten minutes to be sure he wouldn't bump into him on the way out, and went straight home.

* * *

 

The first thing Keith saw when he left the building was his best friend’s Honda Civic - Shiro himself was leaning on the side of the car, playing with his phone and holding something in a Starbucks’ cup in his prosthetic right hand. Good thing too, it was far too hot for sitting in black cars, even with the AC on.

He was getting a lot of looks, for a lot of reasons - partly because of the prosthetic, partly because of his huge white assistance dog, of course partly because he was simply objectively hot with a chest you could break rocks on. It was also because of the scars, and the fact that he was covered in words, which only meant one thing - that he had a soulmate, had not sealed the bond, and said soulmate had continued to mark him up anyway.

Shiro was ignoring all the looks, and did not dress like he cared - it was a shorts and t-shirt day so that was what he was wearing. Socks and sandals too, the nerd. He looked up as Keith crossed the road, and so did the dog, tongue hanging out like a big wet pink sock. Keith reached down to pat it and got his hand washed for his trouble.

‘Hey, Keith,’ said Shiro, and the smile crumpled into a frown when he saw Keith’s face. ‘Something the matter? You look… upset.’

‘Yes,’ said Keith. ‘Fuck. This never would have happened if only Anton could get with the twenty-first century and learn to e-mail PDFs like normal people.’

By now, Shiro looked straight-up concerned. ‘What never would have happened? Keith, come on, you’re scaring me.’ He opened the car door and steered Keith to sit down. ‘What’s…. Oh.’

Keith followed Shiro’s gaze to the extra words on his arm, and gave a bitter little laugh before burying his face in his hands. ‘Yeah, _oh_. I was being so fucking careful, too.’

Shiro said nothing, only offered Keith the cup. It turned out to be a green tea frappe, and Keith took a couple of sips before handing it back and saying to his knees, ‘Oh, god. I just realised.’

‘What?’

‘I put words on him on purpose.’

Silence for a moment. Then Shiro said, ‘Why did you do that?’

‘He was being an annoying little shit. I was trying to be helpful and he was just being a prick about everything, you should have seen it. Fuck, I wish you had been there. I might have known what to say, then.’

‘He was probably just as confused as you, Keith.’

Keith nodded. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

Shiro sighed. ‘You know it’s not me you have to apologise to.’

Another nod. ‘I know. But we already decided we don’t speak to each other again if we can possibly help it. I might never even _see_ him again.’

‘That’s wishful thinking and you know it.’ Shiro stood up and opened the back door. ‘Oh, here’s your jacket. Atlas is very grateful you let him sleep on it.’

The dog hopped into the back of the car and Keith took the red jacket, inspecting it critically. ‘Shiro, look what your assistance yeti did to my jacket,’ he said, pulling a long white hair off the sleeve. He sighed, shook it hard and got in the car on the passenger side.

‘This is why there’s a lint roller in the glove box,’ said Shiro easily. ‘Now, while I drive you home you can tell me what this guy is like and if I need to start worrying about you. Do I need to start worrying about you?’ He glanced at Keith and smiled - no, that was a smirk. ‘Is he at least hot?’

Keith, engaged in trying to rid his biker jacket of white malamute hair as the car eased smoothly out into the road, rolled his eyes to the heavens, why did he even put up with this sort of nonsense. ‘He’s kind of pretty if you’re into the lanky type, yeah. His name’s Lance. Brown hair. Darkish, he looks like he could be Mexican, Brazilian, somewhere like that. Blue eyes, though.’

‘You noticed his eye colour?’

‘Yeah, cause it was weird. Normally I wouldn’t but you don’t usually get eyes that blue on guys that dark. You’d have noticed too.’

‘Alright. So how did he react to the soulmate thing?’

‘He’s straight. He has a girlfriend.’

Shiro grimaced. ‘Oh. And then there’s _you_ …’

Keith looked up from his task to peel another layer of paper away from the lint roller. ‘A match made in, well, somewhere, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Well, it’s something. At least you can agree on avoiding each other.’

‘There's that, I guess. And we _did_ agree. Or at least, I told him how it was going to be and he didn't argue.’

Keith didn't even need to look up to know Shiro was wearing his best disappointed-in-you expression. ‘ _Keith_ …’

‘Maybe he’ll stay away from me now,’ mumbled Keith.

‘That's not the point. You _know_ better than to intimidate your soulmate.’

‘He’s not my soulmate, we agreed on that too. Shiro, you're the one who told me I get a choice.’

There was an uncomfortable silence. When Keith looked up, Shiro was watching the road, stony-faced. When he opened his mouth to say something, Shiro cut him off with, ‘So, have you played these new tracks Ulaz had you drop off? What did you think?’

Keith took the hint and they talked about idle band chatter until Shiro dropped him off at the apartment he shared with four other people who in Keith’s opinion were mostly OK except for James, who was the most insufferable guy in the entire universe, Lance included.

He even liked _white guy rap._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK, BACK AGAIN, WORDS IS BACK, TELL A FRIEND
> 
> Ahem. Anyway, obviously I never went away, but I pulled down the original Words when it became clear that Keith's story needed telling *at the same time* as Lance's. And then The Blades and the Bees just got longer and longer, so I'm going to post a chapter of this and a chapter of Blades - and then when that's done it's getting a sequel, so Words will be posted between chapters of that. Also the chapters are about half the length, so I can post more often and they're easier to read, win-win.
> 
> Anyway! The Soulmate thing here is obviously not based on love or sex or even like. Your soulmate is the person who *understands* you *completely*, and considering that in this world even assholes like Zarkon get soulmates? That can be very scary.
> 
> Rating Mature for the moment, but be aware that the rating might change later. So far as I know there's no actual serious smut till the end but I'm just the author, what do I know?
> 
> Oh, yeah, pretty much all of the side characters are taken from canon, but if they don't have believable Earth names I mainly changed them. Can you spot them all?


	2. Dream a Little Dream of Me

Lance got home half an hour before Nyma was due back from her shift at the local hippy shop, so he took a look at all the new words in the mirror - thankfully not that many - and scripted in his head what he'd tell her.

Nyma returned a little late, hanging up her sunhat and putting a bag full of churros on the counter, her pale face sour.

'Ugh, Lance, you would not believe the _day_ I have had,' she said, shaking out her blonde dreads. 'If I have to listen to one more wannabe Wiccan babble on about how I'm obviously a Libra and they can just tell, I'm going to end up actually slitting someone's throat.'

Nyma was a Scorpio.

'So you got churros to feel better?' said Lance, crossing the room to wrap his arms around her. He had put on a long-sleeved shirt so that none of his soulwords were visible. 'Wise move.'

'Well, some of these are for you. I probably can eat a dozen churros by myself, but I shouldn't.' She paused, head resting on Lance's shoulder. 'How was the pool?'

'Oh, it was... okay.' Lance coughed and pulled back. He knew he was a terrible liar and Nyma, being a much better one, could see through him like he was made of glass. 'Look, something happened at the pool. I'm gonna tell you all about it but we should probably have churros and hot chocolate first.'

Nyma looked at him, eyes narrowed. 'Yeah, OK,' she said. 'That sounds like a good idea. You make the chocolate, I'm gonna go change out of my work clothes.'

The Moonlily liked Nyma to dress for work in flowing skirts and enough beads to sink a small galleon. It was better than a polo shirt and a hat with a fast food logo on it, and paid a little better, but still wasn't her style, and when she came downstairs again in cargo pants and a blue crop top she looked much more relaxed.

Lance handed her a mug of the thick Mexican chocolate his mother kept him supplied with - Lance's mother had a very poor opinion of American hot chocolate - and they retired to the couch.

He waited until Nyma had eaten at least one churro first, but the silence and the waiting was becoming unbearable and eventually he said, 'So. Uh. Look, Nyma, first of all I wanna establish that none of what I'm about to say changes anything.'

She gave him a flat look and took another churro. 'You met your soulmate at the pool today, didn't you? What's she like? Is she pretty?'

' _What?_ How did you-'

'You're wearing sleeves in July and you're being all cagey and careful and trying not to piss me off. It couldn't really be anything else. So go on, tell me about it, what's she like?'

Lance deflated like a burst airbed. 'Well you can rest assured because _he_ is a complete _dick._ Also I think he kind of resents having his destiny planned for him so we talked only long enough to agree that we are not going along with this nuh-uh no way.' He looked down into his mug. 'He hoped you'd take it well.'

There was no reply for long enough that Lance was terrified into raising his eyes. Nyma was watching him, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. She looked vaguely sorrowful but he'd caught her like that before when it had turned out just to be her thinking face, and vice versa. Finally he could bear it no longer and said, 'Sweetie, say something, you're killing me here. Are you mad?'

Nyma gave a little snort of a laugh. 'Hell, no, why would I be mad? I have the sweetest boyfriend on the planet. You found your soulmate and ditched him to keep me.' She put her mug down and shuffled around the couch to snuggle up to Lance. 'I'm _worried_ about you, that's all.'

'What, all those stories of flowers growing in your lungs and red threads tying you together and everything? Those are myths and you know it,' said Lance, wrapping his free arm around her.

‘ _No_.’ replied Nyma, poking him in the ribs. 'All the _completely_ _true_ side-effects of depression, anxiety, nightmares and all the other stuff that can happen if you avoid your soulmate for too long. I don't want you to get hurt.'

'I'll be fine. I have the love of a good woman to protect me.' Lance gave her a chocolate-flavoured kiss, and despite all the questions still hanging in the air, that was the end of the subject for that day.

* * *

 

_There's a city. It's teeming with people, and everywhere Lance goes people flock around him, talking and talking to each other but never to him - every time he says anything to anyone else people look baffled and turn away or smile at him in silence. Their voices always sound muffled anyway, like they come from a distant room._

_Then suddenly after years, lifetimes, there is a clear voice - Lance runs to find the source, desperately pushing past all the people who suddenly close up to prevent him passing. He fights his way through impossibly dense crowds, kitten-weak, and finally breaks through._

_It's Keith. Keith turns and says something about destiny. His words come out of his mouth like bullets and shoot Lance dead._

Lance woke up, heart hammering.

It was a dream. It wasn't even that bad a dream, sure, he'd _died,_ but it had been quick and painless, why was he gasping for breath like he'd nearly drowned? 

Beside him, Nyma stirred and murmured something, barely awake, and he looked down at her - sleepy eyes blinking up at him in the dark, the unspoken question on her face. He shook his head.

'Just a weird dream,' he said, trying to force his voice to be calm and cursing himself when it didn't quite work. He lay down again and draped his arm over her waist. 'It's nothing. Tell you in the morning.'

In the morning, both of them had already forgotten. 

* * *

 

The dreams kept coming, though. Not the same dream, and he didn't die in them all. Sometimes Keith died. Sometimes neither of them did. Sometimes Keith wasn't even there. Sometimes he has luridly detailed dreams where he and Keith had the best sex Lance ever experienced in his life, and woke to find he'd come in his sleep like a teenager - those dreams worried him most.

They would have worried him a lot less if he hadn't kept running into Keith in real life.

The first time could have been written off as coincidence. Lance was at the mall having lunch with Nyma on her day off, and almost choked on his garlic knot when he spotted the familiar black mullet in the queue on the other side of the food court.

'Shit,' he muttered, ducking down suddenly. 'Babe, we have _got_ to go.'

'Huh?' Nyma looked around. 'What's up? Lance, you're acting really weird, is something wrong?'

' _He's_ here. Come on, let's go before he sees us.'

'What? Where?' Lance pointed. Nyma turned in her seat and squinted at the queue. 'Oh, the guy in the red jacket? With the black hair? Huh.'

'Yeah, mullet, that's him.' Lance had finished packing his food into the takeout box and was shrugging his jacket on. 'Nyma, _please_ , can we just _go_? I don't want him to s- oh crap.'

Keith had, in fact, spotted him. They locked eyes for a second, then Keith's gaze flicked to Nyma and back to Lance, face carefully blank, then he stepped out of the queue and left by the nearest exit.

Nyma watched him go. 'There, see? You're worrying for nothing. Poor guy, he's gonna have to get his lunch somewhere else now.'

'I... yeah.' Lance didn't care where Keith got his stupid lunch. He was too relieved. 'That was so damn close. Well, anyway, you've seen him now, what do you think?'

'Dangerous question,' replied Nyma, but she took a bite of chickenburger while she considered her answer. Eventually, she said, 'He's hot. You could do way worse. And he's obviously trying to do what's best for both of you. Some people are complete assholes and they still have soulmates.'

'Ugh,' said Lance, wishing he'd never asked. 'I'm not gonna go find him, Nyma. I've got you.'

'And now I appreciate that even more.'

* * *

 

'If that was the only time it'd be fine! He _keeps_ showing up!' Lance waved a hand in the air to illustrate what a complete pain this was, but managed to carefully avoid the glass of soda Hunk was offering him. 'Thanks, Hunk, I needed this. It is _way_ too hot out today.'

'No problem, buddy.' Hunk settled back on the couch and Pidge immediately leaned back against him like he was a beanbag, her legs thrown over the arm of the couch. Neither of them had any soulwords at all, they had all vanished the instant they'd mutually decided to be soulmates. It had been perfectly platonic for years - naturally, they's been only children after all - but the relationship had grown with them and now they'd been living together for a year and had recently adopted a miniature schnauzer named Rover.

'I don't see any more words on you,' Pidge said. 'Is he touching you every time you meet?'

Lance glared at her. 'Oh my god, that would be even creepier than the first time. No, he never says anything at all. Mostly he just leaves. Or he turns his back on me like I'm not even there.'

Pidge and Hunk exchanged looks. 'That's... pretty much ideal, though, right?' said Hunk.

'It would be if he wasn't showing up _everywhere_! The pool, the mall, the store, the subway, I can't go anywhere without seeing that stupid red jacket he wears and that even stupider mullet. Seriously, guys, I have honestly started getting jumpy when I see red in a crowd even if it turns out not to be him.'

'Maybe he's getting jumpy when he sees tall skinny dudes with brown hair,' suggested Pidge, but there wasn't much malice in it.

'Ha! No, that guy is cool as a cucumber, I bet you could set off a mine behind him and he'd just shrug.'

Pidge sat up and reached for Lance's left arm - he leaned away. 'Hey, woah. What's up, miss touchy?'

'Don't be ridiculous, Lance, I've seen your soul words, I just want to have another look. Please.'

Lance narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, sighed, then peeled off his t-shirt and turned his back. His skin seemed to tingle a little under her vigorous inspection, and eventually he said, 'Well? What's the verdict, Doctor Pidge?'

'He seems... reserved, mostly. I bet you goaded him into this.' She jabbed her fingertip at the insult curving over his shoulder. 'Fairly neat handwriting but it's also the type you get when someone writes fast, he's maybe the impatient type.'

'Oh, yeah, I coulda told you that.'

'Honestly he didn't leave much on you - that's a good sign - but there's still not much to go on. Oh, you can put your shirt back on.'

Lance did so. 'What the hell makes you think I want to know more about him? I just want him _gone_.'

In the kitchen, something beeped and everyone looked up.

'Oh, the pizza's done,' said Hunk. 'Pidge, honey, would you get that?'

'Way ahead of you,' said Pidge. She was back shortly with one of Hunk's patented stuffed-crust pizzas and a pile of plates, followed in by an excited Rover, and the air was full of the sound of satisfied munching for a few minutes.

It didn't last, though. Hunk finished his slice, grabbed another and said, 'You know it's not gonna be that easy, though, right? I'm not saying you should dump Nyma and go find him, I'm just saying that there'll be side-effects and you should probably do some research.'

'Ooh, yeah, he's probably started having the dreams already,' said Pidge, gesturing with a piece of crust. 'No, Rover, get down, this isn't for you.'

'Ugh, don't make me talk about the dreams,' groaned Lance. 'Rover. _Get off_. You're not getting pizza bones from me.'

'Maybe we _should_ make - Hunk don't you dare give him that - make you talk about the dreams.'

Lance sagged in his seat. 'They get more meaningless all the time. Last night there was one where I was searching through a crowd of people in red coats looking for the real Keith. How is that not complete nonsense?'

'Hm. Seems to me that something really wants you to go looking for him,' said Hunk.

'Can we stop talking about this now? I'll research it, I promise, I just don't wanna think about it any more today. He's unlikely to come out of your closet so I know I'm safe in here. Hunk, Rover's going for your pepperoni.'

Hunk yelped and dived to protect his plate, but it was already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a Lance chapter this time - Keith next time! Also we meet Hunk and Pidge and Nyma! Don't feed your dogs pizza bones, they're bad for them.


End file.
